The Artist Aside Related Ninjas
by Mistlan
Summary: Ninjas crash land into Holmes front yard. Could two be unlikely descendants or better yet can they get back to their own time. Team 7 Hijinx. Shippuden timeline. Some OC's and a lot of running.
1. It came upon a Daylight Clear

****The Artist Aside Related Ninjas****

**Summary: **Let's just say, for the sake of fits and a giggle, Team 7 was related to whoever lived in 221 Baker Street. A disgruntled Artist finds out about the evil of girdles and finds herself keeping a once and still dysfunctional team together. Oh and yes this time the whole wormhole was Sai's fault.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: It fell from the sky<strong>

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><p><strong>(Watson's Point of View)<strong>

An almost camping trip is how this whole mess starts. Yet something plagues me to this very day. The moment when Sherlock was at a loss for words was something that fell from the sky. We happened upon a fishing trip. My wife actually requested that we take Holmes along as she spoke of him being cooped up in his house too long to be of any significant good health to his sanity. I had to bodily . . . remove him actually, to which it made me wonder if his sanity really was actually in question or for naught.

"It's quite irrelevant dear Watson I have no need for any vacation," to which Holmes vehementally replied, "There is nothing out there so as to will get me out that door."

"Holmes," I stated cleanly, "I know there hasn't been any work since the last case with Scotland Yard and her Majesty but you must face facts." Holmes was bustling quickly back to that former parlor he called a laboratory. "If you don't do _something_ to keep your mind occupied you'll start thinking Mrs. Hudson is hiding something again! You almost killed yourself twice with your insane reenactments and personally I think everyone's right. You must get out of the house if not for any sake of mine or yours but at least someone's . . ."

The daggers with which Mr. Holmes metaphorically shot from his eyes told me he didn't have his regular spot of sleep. It's actually quite exhausting having to rescue him from himself, but what else can you do with a friend. He's stubborn, messy, and often pig headed in a charming way if not for the fact that when he gets so obsessed with something that he'll often forget to even eat or sleep.

"The Games afoot come Watson!"

WHIIIIZZZZZZ

CRASH

NEIGH

KLATTA-KLATTA-CRUNCH-TOK-TOK-TOK-TOK

SQUELCH

"What do you mean now Holmes?" I hissed but my next words caught in my throat. A gaggle of limbs lay along the road already damaged from a previous fight and in all my years in her Majesty's service or . . . or even on the operating tables, I have never seen such a ghastly sight.

"My my, such discombobulation!" Holmes happily mused, "There's one skull there and another . . . Bloody Heck."

"These are naught but children!" I conveyed.

"Not all Watson one's well into her early twenties," Holmes dead panned poking the skull of a black haired young woman with his cane, any trace of humor gone and his face solemn as a frowning Mona Lisa, "Take those limbs there. We will need a wheel barrel and a convenient way to transport the bodies-"

"They are still _alive_ Holmes," I corrected the man.

"Oh . . . quite right . . . Well anyway Let's not keep the lab waiting Watson," Holmes announced as if this was his idea of fun, in a burst of stupidity he turned toward me and asked, "By the way how are you at emergency field surgery?"

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><p><strong>(Later on in the Dining Area at 221B Baker Str. Mrs. Hudsons Point of View)<strong>

Has anyone ever wondered what goes on in my tenant's head? Experts have been yelling about for centuries. Some said it was because of his upbringing. Others say it's apparently genetic. Everyone loves Holmes. Everyone who has never lived with the man can sing praises of his genius.

I for one can tell you one thing. He just loves to investigate. Yes in all business sense he is the tenant from hell but at least doesn't do anything without reason . . . I hope. It scared me half to death when he slung a pile of people onto my dining room table mind you! I have been tolerant. I've been tolerant of the bullet holes in my walls. I've been calm about his turning my whole house upside down to catch flies and watch them spin. I've been amiable about his scratchy violin screaming halfway til dawn and his drugging the Bull Pup of Morphine but I do have rules that draw the line.

"That kills it," I demanded hands on my hips ready to show the boys out, Yes I know John used to live here too once upon a time but he and Sherlock have been practically brothers in all but blood, quarrels and all. I feel like I've raised them myself except when I found them they were already grown men "Boys you know how I feel about Bodies in the Eating area. Take them out into the . . . Oh my word!"

I could only gasp when John had pulled the knives out of the pile of people. Several I didn't recognize actually; round little stars and large looking daggers. Ick, I don't think I'll be cooking tea, on second thought I might as well put on a pot anyway. It's the only coping Mechanism I have for whatever problem ails me.

"I ought to fix some Mint tea for the boys," I told Pup . . . Well I couldn't think of any other name for the canine whose been given more than nine lives and the patience of Joeb. John has the other Bull Pup with his wife. This brindle one, Pup, is mine.

My Pup whined in understanding.

"Oh you're right," I stated affixing my apron, "Chamomile tea it is then. I'm afraid of what Holmes might've drugged the lemon tea with."

Not that he's addicted to anything, no. He's pungently a risk taker. He's never gone to great lengths to explain himself. At least he'll never explain himself until the very end.

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><p><strong>(Dining Area turned Hospital, Watson's Point of View)<strong>

I had my button up sleeves rolled right up to my elbows. It was Holmes' idea to wrap a washrag around my head much like the China Men that worked in the railroads or in the mines. I might look ridiculous but right now the extra hands were needed to hold Sutures shut, tighten bandaging and fix stitches. The appalling sight of the damage this group sustained; something awful. I'm counting the damage I was witness too; the hundred foot drop from the sky, the getting run over by an ass were just the icing on the cake to war wounds coming from an all out brawl.

SPINNNNG

One of those metal round stars barely nicked my cheek. Holmes wriggled in his seat much like a child.

"Holmes!" I demanded, "Help me hold this shut!"

"Oh but I am helping my dear Watson," Holmes mused, "I'm finding out how these wonderful metal bits work."

". . . Holmes . . ."I flat lined, "You're impossible."

"Au Contraire I'm perfectly sane," Holmes exclaimed, "I'm just testing these fascinating devices."

Holmes just had to get his hands on the sharp artifacts didn't he?

"Holmes wouldn't you have more fun playing in the young ladies' purses?" I asked to which I'd smack myself if I wasn't using both hands to hold a wound shut that was unbeknownst to me healing rapidly on its own. In fact having Holmes go through some poor woman's purse was worse. My wife still won't let me live down the time Holmes had me steal Irene Adler's purse during that . . . ghastly trip down the Nile. I'm a doctor! I'm supposed to know what women's menstruation toiletries looked like in the first place unlike Holmes who liked to put them in water just to see them expand.

"No can do, one of the bags appears to be . . . sealed shut," Holmes gasped as he tried to wrench the pink haired lady's bag open, he sniffed it, "It has medical supplies . . . Oooohhh this is interesting." He pulled out the Tanto Blade connected to the young lady's Boxy white purse. Here you can go through this woman's bag; it's mostly sketchbooks and a fascinating flash box."

"Holmes!"

"Oh Alright, I'll hold this . . . hello," Holmes acquiesced looking upon my current patient with curiosity, "Are you trying to suture or Cauterize the wound shut?"

"What in blue blazers are you getting-Ah!" I squeaked; mind you it'd take a lot to get me to squeak despite how easily I could get rattled since Afghanistan. "Sutures don't burn shut!"

Smoke was violently hissing through the sutures and burning them away.

"Well that one appears to be an old infection," Holmes observed as if I wasn't having enough trouble trying to keep the Suture from spurting forth a fountain.

"Get me some alcohol Holmes. This wound won't disinfect itself." I told him quite prudently.

To which Holmes replied, "I too, fancy myself a little Bourbon to drink."

"Holmes!"

"But then again, wine was often the disinfectant of choice in the biblical times of the Good Samaritan." Holmes continued speaking, as he swirled the bottle with a mad gleam in his eyes, "I pity you my . . . not-so-unconscious friend but playing possum with a doctor is liable to get you screaming."

As he spoke this I looked down upon which to see two bright blue eyes snap open just when Holmes uncorked the bottle. Holmes strode forward. He dumped any and all alcohol into the wound. The Blue eyed boy sat bolt upright and uttered a scream so loud that I had without a doubt become temporarily deaf. The Blue eyed Boy Sputtered at Bourbon accidentally falling upon his lips. Holmes went to say something but I couldn't hear anything. I went to ask Ms. Hudson for the aspirin; no doubt my pounding headache would multiply within the next few weeks.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I am currently updating my other stories. Update schedule may be sporadic but have a very Merry Christmas.


	2. Naruto's Divine Intervention

**Naruto's Divine Intervention  
><strong>

**Summary: **Let's just say, for the sake of fits and a giggle, Team 7 was related to whoever lived in 221 Baker Street. A disgruntled Artist finds out about the evil of girdles and finds herself keeping a once and still dysfunctional team together. Oh and yes this time the whole wormhole was Sai's fault.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.

**Warning:** We have a cussing Naruto and a lackadaisical Kyuubi. Who can blame the guy. Good news is Kyuubi has a name in this fic. I don't know if it's anything like the Manga.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Mystery of the Singing Fox<strong>

**(Kyuubi's Humble Abode, Naruto's point of view)**

"Ohhhh man," Naruto bemoaned softly with a groan rubbing his tousled blonde head. Here he was facing the same gate every time his life was near death's door or when he was sleeping or when the seal started to weaken or . . . Okay let's just say this boiler room looking place became highly familiar ever since Ero-Sannin threw him off a cliff when he was barely thirteen. He dusted himself off and nearly flipped out when he spotted blood on his own two hands.

"AHHHHHHH" He let out a horrifying scream, "Oh man I killed the Client. I killed the Client! And that's bad. That's Bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-baaaaah-"

"**BRATLING!" **rumbled a deep dark voice whose rancid breath sent a heavy Wind in Naruto's direction, nearly blowing him off his black clad feet. Bright blue eyes turned to stare up and up at a pair of bright ruby cat eyes.

". . . Oh . . ." Naruto flatly responded noting the same spooky glare as usual, ". . . It's you. . ."

"**Notice something?" **The big red fox purred, sending shivers down his jailor's spine.

"Notice my foot," Naruto huffed, "First you take over then Sasuke comes running to kill Sakura and Sai and Clarity . . . Clarity . . ."

He closed his eyes. Minute flashes went through his head. Something about sutures and a crazy guy throwing knives, falling from the sky, A hoof to the face . . . Clarity jumping between them and the final fight . . .

"THAT IDIOT!" Naruto screamed when he just remembered Clarity got herself rammed between a chidori and a giant rasengan when she went between them while Sakura stood frozen stiff before turning to the Fox, "and YOU, you loggerheaded flea-bitten scut! What the heck did you do?"

"**I saved your sorry hide you mongrel," **Kyuubi sneered, **"Well actually my hide. Notice anything missing you Mortal Whelp."**

Naruto paused, blinked, and noticed the gate was wide open. The cute little seal was in ribbons across the boiler room's watery floor space. He gulped noticing the Fox had its long red face shoved up against the Ninjas entire Torso. Nine Tails wagged when the fox evilly grinned. Naruto gulped to keep his heart from beating in his larynx.

"Uh . . . you wouldn't happen to know a good locksmith would you?" Naruto gulped.

The fox made a swipe. The after wind of the fox's hand sent Naruto rolling into the wall. The fox pumped his demonic chakra directly into the pipes. At the same time Naruto felt his whole body catch aflame.

"AHHHH, You dang fox what're you doing! Dattebayo!" He yelled, He couldn't live through the pain. Too many open wounds, 2nd degree burns felt awful. He just knew he was going to die.

"**What I normally do brat!" **The Fox scoffed, **"Keeping you alive."**

Naruto visibly rocked on the ground hugging his aching stomach thinking, _I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!_

"**As if I'd let you," **Kyuubi chuckled darkly, **"Oh sure there's no seal keeping your soul separated from mine but it's not like we have a symbiotic relationship. You have your little buddies here anyway since they went after you two lunkheads."** Kyuubi was not going to say the fact that the whole symbiotic relationship thing was more skin deep than Kyuubi wished it to be. He also didn't want to say a couple of the lunkheads were scattered upon either end of the city.

Naruto felt himself gratefully slip into unconsciousness only to find his shaky self back in the realm of the living. He squeezed his eyes shut. Hoping the pain would stop. His blood felt like it was boiling.

* * *

><p><strong>(Now back in Cold Hard Reality)<strong>

"I pity you my . . . not-so-unconscious friend but playing possum with a doctor is liable to get you screaming." Spoke a strange man who poured burning liquids into Naruto's leg.

Naruto sat bolt upright getting some of the liquid burning down his throat in the process.

"AHHHHH What the Heck!" Naruto coughed, "WHERE AM I! WHAT AM I DOING HERE AND WHO THE HECK ARE YOU-TTEBAYO!"

Naruto leaped to his feet to point accusingly to the two men before him and then the lady who dropped her tea tray. The awkward silence stood so thick that not a thing could cut it. The sixteen year old boy looked derisively in all directions before he sat down. Something didn't feel right. He suddenly felt woozy and extremely sick. He curled into himself with an iron will to not collapse.

"Easy there easy," Watson soothed the lad, "You're in London dear fellow. No harm done, you're quite alright."

'_And recuperating alarmingly,'_ Watson mentally added to himself.

He was careful to hand the boy _his _cup instead of Holmes' cup so that he didn't get any contaminants in his system. Naruto took the cup of tea gratefully and cupped his hands around before a violent fit of coughing. The bourbon burned all the way down. A couple sips of scalding tea soothed the bourbon burn and left in its wake a different kind of fire. Naruto remembered trying to sneak a cup of alcohol once but it burned a lot and left him woozy afterwards. The hot tea did the trick to sooth but it did not get him to sit down.

"Where's my comrades. How's my teammates. Where's Clarity?" Naruto asked, voice hoarse. It wasn't much English. Clarity's demands oftentimes held a similar harsh tone of voice following a crafty smile. Whom was looking after whom. It was Naruto protecting Clarity from herself that's who.

"Alright then," crooned Holmes, his companionable slap upon Naruto's shoulder made Naruto hiss and curse several words Ms. Hudson was glad not to understand. "I'll direct you to your friends. In turn you will answer questions for me. What is the use of this fascinating device up your-"

SHING

Naruto straightened his arm. The knife came out of his sleeve on a loop of wire. The knife put to Holmes' throat. Watson's gun aimed at Naruto's ear. Holmes steady gaze turned from the knife to the gun then to Watson's dead set face. He smirked barely a little.

"Fascinating," He toned, "Simply fascinating. Naruto . . . Is it?"

Naruto blinked in answer to his name. Holmes twisted the arm. One hand had a free arm behind his back. Naruto had his own knife brought to his throat. Naruto struggled, huffed, but Holmes whispered in his ear.

"The fight is over. You are here. Your friends are . . . There. YOU," Holmes pointed out, "were the first to recover. I know your name by the ID in your coin purse. It has a remarkable semblance to the Cane Toad by the way."

Naruto didn't sit still to hear Homes' explanation. He ran straight to their bedside. He shook the shoulder of each unconscious trio. The silver haired man whose face was obscured by a sheet of cloth. The pale faced fellow who by any and all who could tell had to have been an albino. The last few a-

"A hairstyle reminiscent of a mallard's bottom and the female. That has to be Cherry Blossom colored hair," Holmes responded, "And pastel green eyes."

"THAT'S PINK!" Watson spat.

"Quite right Cherry Blossom colored it is," Holmes mused, "Must be a genetic disorder."

KLONK

"No Sh** Sherlock," Naruto cussed and promptly hit Holmes with the flying bedpan. Holmes keeled over from that blow. He was definitely going to feel that concussion by dawn. "And quit making fun of Sakura-chan!"

The last one the black haired woman in her twenties by far had received the worst amount of damage. Naruto kept cursing himself. It was his mission to protect the client not blow the client to smithereens. The chakra poisoning her already delicate situation was making each medical procedure done to her a disaster. Her body was attacking itself.

"I'm sor . . . I'm sorry," He choked out, barely a whisper, "Clarity you idiot if you don't make it I'm going to skin you alive."

Then there came the other assailant. Naruto didn't know whether to be glad to see him or ready to kill him. Sasuke Uchiha in all his glory was stripped (by Holmes) down to his fishcake print underpants. Bandaged and battered, he barely retained the image of his former avenging glory. Aside from the Ass's hoof prints marking it's way up the front of his body followed by a set of wheel tracks.

"If it makes you feel any better," Holmes suggested lamely, "His cause of death would've been run over by a donkey driven Cabbage Stand."

"Great an ass run over by an Ass," Naruto scoffed, "You definitely had a thing for the dramatics Sasuke but this is so dumb it's ironic."

"**I can always help,"** Kyuubi growled ominously.

'_Not NOW Kurama,'_ Naruto mentally seethed.

"**Maybe after my nap I'll lend you my chakra," **Kyuubi purred, **"Your health is my health and if you keep worrying about that Harpy I'll die of nausea."**

'_She's a friend you Fleabag!' _Naruto sighed in his head, if he yelled aloud than those strangers would think he's insane but screaming was tempting, '_Above all else she hired Team 7 to protect her not make her a statistic.'_

"**Clocks ticking," **Kyuubi mused, he was happy about his predicament. He stretched out his full length along the floor of his prison. His toes touching one end and his head resting on his arms. He didn't see any setbacks. He decided to make the most of his newfound situation.

He began to sing, **"When Irish Eyes are Smiling~, there's destruction all~ around~."**

* * *

><p><strong>(Parlor, Mrs. Hudson's Point of View)<strong>

I've done some things that would make any normal housekeeper gag. Feeding a boa constrictor in the living room! Having to clean up some awful spills. I'm quite a regular with poison and animal control. They were speechless when Mr. Holmes went walking straight out one Christmas in a pair of Long Johns and a cloth face mask literally painted to look like the coal pile. He walked straight out of the snow bank and asked the poor speechless dears if they'd like any tea! Of course no one ever really sees Holmes actually mix formaldehyde in with the butter biscuits. It's one of the reasons why I politely see to some of his crazy requests so long as he stays out of my kitchen.

"Nanny," Holmes inquired using that tone of voice like a grown man asking his mother, of all the crazy ideas, "Would you be a dear?"

I did not trust Holmes with my good sewing scissors. I thought I had those under lock and key! Then again he could be a dear in his own . . . Eccentric way. I gave Sherlock my own subdued smile. I pocketed the scissors in case he starts cutting bald spots in the name of science.

"I will take care of the guests if you don't mind," I answered, "Please be a gem. John has heard so little about you!"

John worded a _don't you dare_.

"John these are the reasons I'm glad to see you." I reiterated to the disgruntled Doctor. With John Watson around for at least a few moments I can get two hours of normalcy at the price of one pence of his sanity. I didn't have to push Holmes towards John's direction. He was quick to drag John out the door by his arm. My Pup trotted after me carrying a bowl of antiseptic.

"Don't forget to disinfect the stitches." Holmes sang as an afterthought.

. . . What I do to keep peace in the kitchen.

* * *

><p><strong>(In front of the Fireplace, Watson's point of view)<strong>

"I do believe you look a bit off color Watson, mind a cup of tea?" Holmes asked, "My blend or Nanny's?"

"Holmes your blend has bactericide in it," I yawned, it was quite a night. I almost thought I'd be reliving The Battle of Maiwand all over again. By any and all accounts skills I obtained during my time in her Majesty's service have not gone rusty. I listened with rapt attention to Holmes use of the throwing stars and the Tanto found on the pink haired girl's purse. It was the sword however that enraptured Holmes immensely. A youth at Christmastime could not compare. He unsheathed the blade much like one would a rapier slashed the atmosphere in front of him.

"Hmmm . . . Lightweight . . ." Holmes observed, he positioned the blade on his person as such in the same way as per the owner it was found upon, "Wielder is right handed, Comes from a noble house in the Far East according to the symbol of his garb. Naruto mentioned Sasuke. The symbol looks like an Uchiwa. His name being Sasuke Uchiha or Sasuke Uchiwa."

EEEEK

CRASH

Mrs. Hudson's gasp and the clatter of a dropped platter assured Holmes and myself to hurry to her aid immediately. The time it took us to circumvent from the sitting room to Holmes' Chambers took Hudson to jump to a chair lifting her skirts.

The boy Naruto glowed brilliantly for a time and in his place stood a humanoid light bulb in Naruto's form. Tribal markings starting at a swirl upon his abdomen branching out. Naruto's hands crissed themselves together to form some sort of sign.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu" spoke he and a doppleganger ran out of a puff of smoke to his right.

EEEEEEK

The most forboding of screams echoed throughout Baker Street. The lamp-like lad pursued another another venture entirely. One that involved a horrible acidic energy bubbling all over the latter's body. The boy, Sasuke, growled quite inhumanly. Black eyes flashing crimson. A fist to the spine connecting the skull to the cerebral cortex knocked Sasuke promptly into the realm of dreams.

"That is quite enough!" I conjectured to the lad. "Whatever have you done to the boy is causing more harm than good. It's burning away the closings."

"Not quite Watson my dear fellow look here," Holmes announced, "The billowy pustules along the wounds remarkably transgressing if the smoke and embers are any indication. Maybe a special prognosis of a man whose astounding ability so as to take other people's illnesses upon himself."

"Easy for you to say," Naruto moaned, bad idea, purifying chakra was definitely under the bad idea scale, "I'm going to be sick. Dattebayo."

By Jove, the boy clutched his stomach and clapped a palm to his face. Blue eyes wide and white. He floundered about the room for an exit.

"No use making a fuss right this way," said Mrs. Hudson guiding Naruto out by his shoulder. His doppleganger perchanced upon the bow window. Two upper torsos straddled out into the street. Naruto tossing his luncheon out upon the cobblestones with such a blight of sickness. Poor chap meant well when he apologized, really he did. It was not enough to stop his retching but lead him to the couch where Mrs. Hudson kept a glass of ginger ale and crackers on a small tray next to the pipe rack.

I picked up my tea and upon sniffing it asked Holmes, "Is this smell what I think it is?"

* * *

><p><strong>(Inside Naruto's Subconcious)<strong>

The Kyuubi aka Kurama was having a fit. One minute he had this whole space to himself without that blasted cage in the way. The next minute he had to dodge Naruto making a hasty escape to his side of the enclosure. One hand covered his mouth. The other arm clamped to his stomach.

"**OY Don't throw up back there that's where I sleep!" **Kurama yelled but too late.

WHURGH

Kurama pinned his colossal ears back. He hated to hear his own vessel wretch. Sure they hammered out some kind of working relationship during the war. Kurama for that fox's selfish reasons and Naruto for his _selfless_ reasons were about as bosom buddies as Cod Fish and Olive Oil. Naruto on the other hand was ecstatic to find out the infamous "Nine Tailed Fox" actually had a _name._ To Naruto the name Kurama sounded more personable than calling him Kyuubi all the time. Kurama ignored the annoying bit of Naruto being an attention starved chatterbox.

" **. . . Dis . . . Gusting . . ." **Kurama drawled, He slapped his tail on the water's surface sending a tidal wave to wash the mess, and Naruto, away. **"Whelp you're a sight for sore eyes. My eyes are sore from looking at you."**

Kurama dangled Naruto from his orange jacket like a bag of jelly beans. The kid was dripping wet. Kurama sniffed him. Yuck, did he hate that smell. Kurama just dunked the boy in the drink and shook him dry.

"Gack, splutter, HEY! I'M STILL ALIVE FURBALL YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO MAKE SURE I WAS DEAD YET! DATTEBAYO!" Naruto yowled. He spluttered and coughed from being laundered by the Kyuubi no Kitsune.

"Well excuse me! You smelled sick. What was I going to do? Tell you one shot of bourbon gets you from buzzed to hangover because they're based off of _my_ bodyweight instead of yours?" mocked the Nine Tailed Fox.

"What weight, you're so fat but all that fat's HOT AIR! YOU NIMROD!" Naruto growled back.

"I'd ask you to weep me a river Fat Face but it looks like you'll erupt me a mountain out of a mole hill instead," Kurama chided when he sat Naruto down, "You passed out because you hyperventilated last second. Sasuke had a small fountain geyser up out of his wound."

Kurama waited and waited for a reaction. Naruto wasn't bouncing around all over the place. He didn't have a shine in his eyes nor a spring in his step. He just flopped there in the palm of Kurama's hand and sighed.

"It's like I'm going from one place to the next and back again," Naruto sighed fatigue taking it's toll, the crash landing, the fight with Sasuke, and even the emotional drain of seeing his friends in such pain, "My friends are in agony. I'm the one being a burden and I actually sensed no ill intent in Watch-son and what's his face."

"He's Sherlock Holmes," Kurama dead panned.

"Yeah that guy!" Naruto chattered, "But what the hell did he drug my tea with?"

". . ." Kurama said nothing. He'd met many crazy people over his lifetime. Several of them nothing like his first meeting. Holmes sounded like another one of those science monkeys or Orochimaru with the evil sucked out of him. ". . .Don't ask . . ."

* * *

><p><strong>Any and all constructive Criticism is welcome.<strong>


	3. Trouble in the Details

**Author's Note: **When I created our mystery antagonist I'd been looking towards Steampunk. We've got ninjas and victorian era detectives. Something had to be a good mesh to glue it all together somehow.

**Warning: Sasuke could be acting out of sorts. I also was trying my best to depict a realistic circumstance especially with how much trust a ninja team might show to Sasuke after well, after he kind of screwed up a bit . . . make that a lot. If this situation seems uncouth to any readers, please bear in mind it's not exactly canon. Clarity is a civilian with a lot to lose just by being a third wheel (snuffs out the Mary Sue thing, she's my mass destruction gal). I just stuck to the fact that postwar, especially the cleanup can be messy and sometimes a lot of things go wrong before they go right. It's the kind of fluffiness that's worth a porcupine's hug full of splinters. **

**The Artist Aside Related Ninja**

**Chapter 3: Trouble in the Details**

* * *

><p><strong>(Months before the story started)<strong>

_ Sometimes there's a wish to not be the last to find out everything. Events can happen so quickly they just blur together. My business partner and I decided it was his turn to run the art shop we owned, nothing ever happened when it was his turn to travel which for me was a godsent since the war. When a small country such as the Land of Wind or a not so industrialized continent such as the Land of Fire get together to have joint idea battles. Sometimes a bonanza of small businesses lump together and make a war profit. Jacked up prices for soldiers, medicine taken from cheap sources and sold back to them at a higher price or gearing all our skills into making a quick bit of money is basics of business if a business wants or needs to stay alive._

_ "Tah-Dah!" I sang taking my handy artwork and slapping it down on the table, "What do you think?"_

_ Gaara before the war preparations were made in Suna designed a Hitai-ate to be approved by the Kages because he already had an army of artisans hired to recreate this design for roughly a third of the shinobi's population, making it an arm's race to meet form, function, supply, and demand. My design (based on Gaara's logo) was compounded metalwork based on the blacksmithing of the Viking broadsword. Some people are, um, kind of anti-equal opportunity beneath the camaraderie of the Shinobi Alliance. I was the only foreigner in a heap of rivals whose people protested hotly against a Hitai-ate even being forged like a broadsword. I'm an art supply store owner, I'm not native, and making weapons is not supposed to be the civillian's job._

_ "The headband will be too heavy!" one rival cried._

_ "Using cheaper metals instead of one pure iron will make it soft, easy to dent, and the scattershot will dig into their brains causing irreparable damage." A shinobi pointed out._

_ I proved already had a live demonstration to prove these critics wrong. On a brass scale one normal Hitai-ate by itself was heavier than my sample by an ounce. Some even tried to scratch it in two but they had to rub that Kunai extremely hard before the tip of the Kunai was dulled on its surface. It didn't even nick the logo. People hated me even worse because I didn't even care a baby gnawed on it. It's just that lightweight, strong . . . and safe. _

_ "So how can you cement the deal that these Hitai-ate show the indomitable Ninja spirit?" one good friend of mine, Shin'emon the tea cup maker responded._

_ I laughed nervously, people would either love me or hate me more after this._

_ "Alright let's see a show of hands." I replied, "Who thinks this war is the most twisted, family slash class reunion ever?" I surmised and felt a tendril of encouragement from the unanimous raise of hands in the audience. "It has given us many mixed feelings of both, happy-to-see-you-ness, regret and some kind of closure. Let's have a live demonstration. Please stand back while I destroy my creation."_

_ The earth rumbled beneath our feet as several people pushed forth a huge monstrosity that hadn't been seen since the Kekkai Genkai incident at Mount Shumisen. The four man crew heaved that sixty pound Gatling Gun center stage. People cleared to the back and sides of the streets. When the baby dropped my Hitai-ate sample on the ground. It clang and the Gatling gun opened fire. Multiblasts tore the cloth to burnt little ribbons yet the metal band was barely blemished. It looked brand new and I tore the remaining back off to reveal my shops logo on the underside. After everyone's hearts stopped thrumming in petrification that is._

_ "See right here, if my product does not do its job and no one wanted to be identified right away, underneath the shinobi's clan symbol and/or favorite logo can be etched in back as identification," I stated, "Since secrecy has been a must since the last kidnapping incidents. I made this to be not only protection but a failsafe for any and all circumstances."_

_ "But . . . your product just survived two hundred rounds of bullets!" one person gasped._

_ "And isn't it a Hitai-ate's job to protect right here?" I inquired, pointing to my forehead, "Arm, neck, leg, whenever! You shinobi are what makes this Hitai-ate great. Wherever you wear this. You'll have two hundred rounds worth of protection."_

_ So safe to say the sales pitch was a big hit. People custom-ordered so many that I couldn't keep up with all the orders by myself. I was only one of several artists that actually put my design to work in some form or another yet still demand was high. I took a chance after my business partner delivered an order, he took orders back at the shop and I went to deliver an order. With a few friends the Hokage insisted get dragged along. _

_ "It's no big deal really," I stated, "It's not like I'll get ambushed honest." _

_Over the months Lady Tsunade and I traded rough words. Tsunade pointed out that my live demonstration attracted just as many cutthroats as it did honest citizens. I pointed out that being in danger wasn't new to me, I'm a glutton for punishment. Seriously, I love Konoha for giving me a second chance when I screwed them over. It's like fighting with family. Other shinobi are not as close to me in fact when War looms that's also when other people decide to save their small business._

_ "Sasuke!" Naruto yelled._

_ Sadly I also had a few other missing nins that were like fighting with family. The one I know best out of Team Hebi now named Team Taka was their leader Sasuke. I know I'm the little civilian that promised to stay out of the way but sometimes he's crashed on my couch . . . when he was bleeding. These guys formed the once united Team Seven before getting caught up in a little conspiracy triangle and I got halfway into the shinobi game to watch it all fall to oblivion in a matter of years._

_ They exchanged blows. Sakura went up against the big red head turned nuts, Juugo. Sai and Kakashi teamed up against the watery sword wielder Hoozuki Suigetsu. Unlike me, who got an earful of the new guy._

_ "TALLY HO!" the newcomer yelled, prosthetic arm swinging, splat._

_ Newcomer fell on his butt. His peg leg got caught in the rocks. He jumped up and fell on his face mud first. He had a small rifle for a hand that sunk into the ground when it tried to prop him up. Very tall graying red head with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Not only was he out of place._

_ SPLAT_

_ He was a total dork, pure and simple._

_ "Gyoza!" Suigetsu yelled, "Take the loot already!" _

_ "But I can help fend off the ninjas," Gyoza whined._

_ Sasuke muttered something of having to do everything himself when he bit his thumb. The bleeding hand slid across an open scroll. I jumped before a swirl of light tried to engulf me._

_ BLAM_

_ Gyoza fired his rifle and the kickback knocked him into Sasuke who accidentally head butted Naruto who fell on top of Sakura. Sai dove into the rescue while Kakashi pulled me out but another snag happened during the mission. Sasuke's chidori rammed through Naruto's sub-clavicle and Sasuke was the one who took the most damage from Gyoza's buckshot bullets._

_ "Sasuke! Naruto!" I yelled after the team. "Everyone, what's going on!"_

_I fought, struggling against Kakashi's vice grip. I couldn't yell stop when my eyes were having a hard time perceiving. Personally this whole fight was all my fault. They wouldn't be this way if it weren't for me._

_ "Darn you stupid invention!" Gyoza muttered. He tried to slap the mud out of his prosthetic gun. It fired and the heavy buckshot hit a new target. "Whoops."_

_ Kakashi pulled me out of the line of fire but the bullets shrapnel exploded upon entering. I took the brunt of the blow. Kakashi turned and the shrapnel sliced into the exposed parts of Kakashi's back. A high pitched scream ravaged the air. I didn't notice anyone else screaming._

_ . . . Oh yeah! . . .That was me . . ._

_ "Baka Gyoza! You're supposed to hit the ninjas not kill our paycheck you bastard!" Suigetsu growled at the newcomer._

_ Gyoza being the happy go lucky idiot bounded after us. Juugo and Suigetsu could only stare dumbly because of one idiot with a sawed off shotgun shot his own teammate. Blasted everyone into the space time continuum. Than was dumb enough to toddle in after them._

_ "Mah, Juugo the new guy you picked out is a piece of work." Suigetsu complained, "Why didn't you go find Karin instead of that dork!" _

_ At least that was the horrible dream I had when I woke up only to fall off the cot. The musty smell of cleaning supplies caught my nose. I edged gingerly forward to assess any damages. Stone walls, cold floor, stored random pieces of junk in a corner all circa 1880's. The sting of my bandaged torso told me that was not a dream and I really did take a gunshot to the face._

* * *

><p><strong>(Fast Forward to now)<strong>

A quiet moan from my lips had someone running over. A matronly looking woman in period dress rushed to my side when I was careful not to bruise any ribs.

"Come now deary, let's get you back onto the cot," she soothed but I kept batting her away.

"No, no," I slurred my pain filled brain in a fog, "My friends. Where's my friends."

"The ones who landed along with you," the woman guessed, "Ah, Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes have been working all night on them, all of them actually. I mean normally I'm not that shaken but after all that damage, you falling from the sky and getting run over by a donkey. It scared me near half to death. I was afraid not to see you alive."

The woman's warm words sent a slimy curl of fear to my heart. Was Naruto alright? Did Kakashi survive? Is Sakura and Sai okay? Did Sasuke actually create a wormhole with a jutsu? These questions and more were on the tip of my tongue as the woman opened the door. My heart pounded in my chest. My mind was ripe with horrors scenes of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein or badly done surgery.

I closed my eyes fearing the worst when I heard the rustle of cloth and the light clink of porcelain. What opened up before me was a simple open space area. A chemistry setup in the corner of the room chasing after an entire wall devoted to looking like the noir PI offices of back in the day. The fireplace kept company with a bearskin rug, a couple armchairs and a cane hatched chair next to the gas lamp. A curtained recess, blocking a window and window seat from view. I was a little dazed looking at all the furniture but when I saw four familiar faces sitting around the living area my sienna eyes lit right up.

"Naruto! Kakashi! You're okay!" I cheered, rushing to greet them, "Sakura, Sai, man I'm so glad Tsunade was on my case to have you guys come along you're life savers."

I ran to hug them only for WAH-POW to the face. Sakura's finger flicks smart. I crashed into a wall. Not that the new dudes weren't dropping jaws. That thunk to the face hurts.

"CLARITY!" Sakura roared, and proceeded to throttle me. A number of people were holding the charging kunoichi back. It took all of Sakura's self-restraint to not tear everything in the flat to get to me. Either that or those injuries were still nasty for her. Other than Naruto, no one wasn't sporting a cast or some kind of overgauzed emergency surgery. "Don't jump into the middle of a fight."

"Ah . . . I'll . . . just sit . . . down," I nervously laughed but inside my courage curled up and died. What did these people think I was Mary Sue? An eighteen year old would not teach a twenty four year old civilian how to kick butt, nor did I have anything outside of a few minor tricks, some honest targets, and a throwing arm for dodgeball. "What just happened while I was comatose?"

Sakura yelled at me for my stupid antics. Sai pointed out some things. There was one guy, a man named John Watson who was absolutely calm. Naruto up and hugged me, wincing I returned the hug, I mean it was almost a botched mission after all. I'm just glad everyone is all right. Kakashi had his nose in his book but don't let that fool ya he already cased me over with his lone eye. Just the dull haze in his dark eye proved my worst fear.

"Oh man," I winced when I sunk into the hatched chair, face in my hands. "It was true?"

The buckshot stitches hurt like a son of a buck. It had not been a dream. Something else got to my attention.

"Where's Sasuke?" I asked out loud again. From the group depression yes I struck a nerve with Team Kakashi I'm not sometimes, "C'mon I know you're okay, give or take the ass running us over. I'm just worried about everyone."

"He's tied up at the moment." Sai pointed out quietly.

I'm not good at sensing chakra, but I could see it all in my head. Sasuke wakes up, disorientated. A soldier moves in. He hits survival mode and oh crud he'll disappear.

"Please tell me he didn't disappear."

"Preposterous how could a prepubescent combatant vanish?" Another man laughed coldly. First impressions are not good ways to judge others but after my stint in this man's presence I could only ask one thing.

"My gosh are you stinking high?" I flustered, "What the heck are you chuffing?"

The man straightened up flustered and affronted. Six feet tall and his lean build only made him seem taller. Square jaw and hawk-like nose with those piercing sharp eyes made him a man that was smart, alert and cunning. The worse combination along with the giddiness found in certain sociopaths I've avoided over the years. Ninjas and civilians tended to be a little on the edgy side when confronted by people like this. His face took a grim declaration of war as he stood up to me.

Six foot tall versus a little civilian who barely stands up to Tsunade's nose in height. I'm pretty short. We shook hands, his grip was strong, my grip made his knuckles crack. Call me anxiety, I was scared of this man even more than I was of Sasuke who for the record had gutted Danzo for fits and giggles last time I met him.

Sherlock grit his teeth until one more yank and he ripped his chemical stained hand free. He paced around me repeating a litany of phrases I've heard from many customers.

"I will have you know I do not fly nor . . . chuff if this is the colloquial you desire to address me by," He sniffed, staring down his nose at me he paced around me with the all snootiness of a snotty art critic, "Clarity Cratchet, artist and small business owner. The blood stains on your blouse show a high lack of physical self-appreciation yet a fundamental intuitiveness for self-preservation dealing with places and people."

And here I am thinking how does he usually know why people hire me?

"Your hands are mottled with dirt yet the rest of your appearance is well kept. People who usually are known to manipulate have been known to keep clean when it works to their advantage." He sneered.

"I keep an honest business," I snapped back, "And sadly yes I've also stepped on a few toes but that's because I have a signed don't tell contract clause for dealing with customers who deal with conspiracy. It's an occupational hazard to avoid torture for anybody."

The crickets could be chirping when I threw my hands upward. My arms flopped to their sides. Point taken my number one customers are all ninjas.

"And being rescued by some dude who cracks dirty secrets rates high on my bad day list," I scoffed back, "Please, thank you for your help but please don't play detective on my friends, it's rude and annoying and I'm not responsible for your demise should you be poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

I got a few withering looks in my direction but it's only fair. Mixing detectives with ninjas is like mixing tabloid reporters with secret agents. Sure Ninjas pride themselves on mission integrity and no nothing ever ends well for snoopy meddlers. We aren't very far away from post-war to guarantee no one dies because they accidently discovered the conspiracy twinkie. You might as well ask a detective to delve into some ninja's dark past warranting detective a death wish because said wish was supposed to remain a secret. Just ask some of the detectives left in my neck of the woods.

. . . If you can find the bodies that is.

. . . And hopefully we don't have anybody who loves human puzzles I hope.

Dr. Watson sat patiently while the whole group filled me in on what was going on. Naruto and Sasuke were the first to wake up. Sakura (upon hearing Sasuke and Naruto scream/fight) made quick work repairing everyone else even getting some to "wake from the dead" as Holmes put it. Kakashi dozed off. He took the biggest amount of damage trying to shield me. I was happy to sit there and let him use my back as a pillow.

Sakura however was the first to whisper in my ear.

"Dr. Watson has medical equipment that I haven't been seen in a hundred fifty years," Sakura hissed under her breath. "_I _even checked for an Eye of the Moon Genjutsu and nothing has turned up."

"We crash landed with a psycho and got run over by an Ass drawn carraige. What makes you even think this is Obito's Jutsu?" Naruto grumbled, Sakura's punch hit home but Naruto didn't fly, "Ow!"

"I was checking for any and all possibilities," Sakura exclaimed, "If it were that Genjutsu, Sasuke would've been the perfect boyfriend and Clarity would've laid off the coffee."

"What? It's nature's slow roasted goodness I can't help myself," I whined, "Look, you bounce ideas. I'll go find Sasuke."

The Team 7 froze up at that. Once upon a time Sasuke wasn't an international criminal. He's had emotional abuse from who knows where. Sherlock is saner than he is. He predicted to me everything about Sasuke. The fact he met and killed his brother, confused at how he met his brother a second time. He declared the kid emotionally and physically abused. Dr. Watson, bless his heart, was much kinder with the diagnosis.

"I have been situated in similar circumstances from my time in her majesty's service," he explained quietly, "He will have traumas, issues, with which he has not received the time to think about until now. Prone to rows and possible night terrors. I suggest, no I order," Dr. Watson wrote down a prescription, "He see a therapist."

I took the paper and smiled politely. Considering Sasuke's clear descent into madness last time Team 7 met I was surprised no one jumped to defend against that part of him, not even Naruto. Sadly it was true. I mean no one could live the next nine years of their life through a massacre, a bleeding heart total jerk of a big brother who I actually feel sorry for, a sensei who wanted to body jump into him, and getting chased by the Raikage and several bounty hunters until he could only sleep for like ten minutes a week to come out unscathed. If Sasuke didn't take a sawed off shotgun to the backside, I am certain he'd have killed Watson if he had the strength.

"No child should see the horrors of war that young." Watson added as he left.

"Yeah it's a little too late for that," I muttered considering they just helped win the war and I was supplying Hitai-ates to the clean-up crew. We were still looking for Yamato's body after all or if he's still alive I hope. "Sasuke kind of grew up in War Alley so to speak."

I helped adjust the dozing Kakashi into a laying position even taking the sweatshirt off my back to pillow his head before I left. I had a blouse under it. Water glass in hand, I entered. Candlelight flickered in the deepest corners of Dr. Watson's bedroom. This doc was sweet but he creeped me out in the opposite way.

Okay, picture this, without those old timey war relics, his cupboard locked up, gramophone missing, and second exit locked shut. The place was shut up tight. Sasuke leered at me by the wall. A fist sized hole where he punched into the cupboard. He sat relaxed but the way he uncurled from the floor, perfectly fluid, faltering at the ache in his back. He didn't show any signs of needing to see a therapist, gauzed and bandaged yes, sociopathic no.

"What do you want Cratchet?" Sasuke grunted. The feeling I had sliming my spine. The aura of death emanated from when he looked at me. His face for a few seconds flashed that eerie grin he had when he described busting Danzo's back over his knee. Sasuke stepped once and froze, deer in the headlights. He leaned back looking over me sitting there shivering on the bed.

"You're frightened," Sasuke asked and for two seconds I could see the sweet kid I first got to know back in Suna. "It's because of me."

I'm a businessman, an artist, I haven't seen this kid in such a long time. Reunions are supposed to happy cheery, sans the sappy theme song in the background. What I get is a skittish teen who under that aloof façade stands five feet away from me just waiting. No response, no "hn" of affirmation. His arms were crossed in a classic pose of discomfort.

" . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Surprise number 2 threw me for a loop. To hear him apologize I felt my entire body wilt. That was it? No fits of violence, no aloofness, or even a roll of the eyes. His friends (though Sasuke quotes the term friends loosely) didn't rush in to see him. Watson's private quarters was stripped bare and he even prescribed Sasuke to see a therapist literally. Technically since Victorian era medicine was taking _baby steps_ compared to twenty first century science. To have some doctor we barely know prescribe medical treatment.

. . . It has to be as embarrassing as getting pantsed.

"Hey you know I'm supposed to say we are just outside the door so if you need a moment or," I almost told Sasuke he was free to sock Sherlock in the face, "need to talk just give a jingle."

"You've hired new employees before?" Sasuke stated, not a question, a hazarded guess.

And he just had to bring that up just when I was about to turn and leave but he's still a friend I keep reminding myself. A friend I'd love to strangle.

". . . Yes I have . . ." I answered, gauging his reaction. Sasuke didn't look me in the eye. Hands clasped near his nose, elbows at his knees. His knuckles were white and his hands barely started to tremor. A ticking time bomb, Sasuke was on high alert. Everything tense, wide awake and stubby fingernails digging grooves into the backs of his hands. "And you need to tell me everything from the beginning. We haven't seen you in years. You turn up out of nowhere declaring you'll be the next Hashirama Jr. and start acting all goody-goody when from second hand opinion I've been hearing you tried to snapped people's necks."

"Those were the tailed beasts there's a difference," Sasuke argued, "And who are you to talk. Death is apart of war just like it's apart of life and apart of change. I plan to destroy the system."

"And create mass genocide," I butted in, "Welcome to politics kid but enough with the pity party. I want to know about Gyoza."

If looks could kill I'd have died but Sasuke didn't have the strength or the chakra to pull it off. Through the moth eaten holes of his clothes blared the _Katon: Tenrō seal_ from Hōzukijō prison. The burn marks seared into the flesh glowing beneath thinning cloth.

"Oh man," I whispered, "Hold on I 'll call the Dr. Watson."

I started to get back up but Sasuke's hand snapped around my wrist. Flesh hot to the touch it didn't just start to burn him alive it was making him sick. Sweat clung to his skin. Heat rushed to dizzying heights from toes to head. He shook the fever from his eyes.

"Karin had quit the team and went back home." Sasuke stated, "Juugo went insane and out of my control. He took to shutting himself in caves for days and only came out to eat or drink. Suigetsu was getting dehydrated and I didn't know what was going on."

Warning bells were ringing and if Sasuke wasn't sitting there in such hidden physical torment I would've called for help immediately. Then Sasuke would bolt. What was I to do?

"I was at my wit's end, I was seeing disappointment in my father's eyes all over again. I failed him. I couldn't keep a team together. But then he showed up." Sasuke exclaimed, "He was leading Juugo docilely by the hand. This amputee and together we were able find Suigetsu fresh water to rebuild himself. Apparently a bounty hunter filled Suigetsu's water bottles full of micro bits of vinegar."

Ouch . . . Mother nature's liqui-sponge. What better way to poison a Hoozuki clan member?

"He actually fully supported me. He supported my plans. Even encouraged them," Sasuke exclaimed. "Gyoza was an idiot who seemed too naïve to tell a lie. I knew he would be loyal to me and only me alone. He demonstrated so."

The build up; here comes the pay-off.

"Gyoza is a much better fighter than what he demonstrated to the others. I saw him fight very well and efficiently. Suigetsu warned me not to trust him but why shouldn't I? He was more confident than Suigetsu claimed him to be." Sasuke muttered, "We ran out of funds and Gyoza was the one who picked out the best targets. He always went with my personal plan." Sasuke swallowed thickly, "He even gave us all of his life savings to remove any doubt but I found out too late."

Sasuke motioned to the jutsu that was currently sucking on his chakra and burning him alive.

"Gyoza had recreated the _Katon: Tenrō seal_ he'd given me a medicine for my injuries but it's a blasted HOAX!" Sasuke snapped, his fist pounded his leg. His torso turned white hot as smoke curled up. "I'm connected to the demon's chakra. Kyuubi has full control now of whether I live or die."

. . . Ah crud . . . according to secondhand rumor _Katon: Tenrō seal _needs chakra to activate and Naruto just gave him a steady supply of untainted Kyuubi Chakra. Kyuubi's will could literally be burning through Sasuke's veins. It made my head hurt to think the _idiot_ who blew our butts off with a sawed off shotgun was the same genius who figured out a way to Booby Trap Sasuke of all people. The man who never went to anyone for help unless he had a hidden agenda or something in him broke. The tremor of his fidgeting foot a barometer to the height of his pain.

"Sasuke did you do a background check on your employee before you hired him?" I asked slowly. The last Uchiha refrained from a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

"No I did not."

"You know better than this Sasuke. Bottom line, always do a background check with _anyone_ you hire or anyone you work for. How many times have you fallen for the same confidence trick?"

Sasuke sat in silence before he mustered up the courage to instead of counting, listing names, "Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha . . . that one man . . . Orochimaru . . ."

The list goes on.

"And where has it gotten us? Personally?" I asked.

Sasuke mumbled his answer. I leaned in to hear him. Only to lean from his yell:

"I said I don't want to know! How can that idiot! That traitor be related to this!"

Sasuke gestured to the _Katon: Tenrō seal _on his torso.

"Because," I snapped back, "Sasuke your family and mentors were not specialists you outmaneuvered them eventually in the confidence trick. This guy is! Gyoza counted on the fact that you're aloof. That you're emotionally fragile with severe daddy issues and dishonest and power hungry and a psychiatrist's worst nightmare."

"Hey!" Sasuke coldly sneered.

"What? You think me trying to piece this altogether is easy? He was hoping for you to cheat." I responded, "Also you're not the first shinobi he's scammed. He performed a jutsu that was not a bloodline limit because technically bloodline, DNA, about as easy to track as pedigree poodles and instead used chemistry to perform _Katon: Tenrō,_ this version of _Katon: Tenrō seal _relies on drugs to mimic the moulding of chakra and made your body perform the jutsu for you making you basically lock yourself out of your own proverbial house."

"How do you know all of this?" Sasuke exclaimed, "Last I checked it was Team 7 and I on the front lines."

Guilt tugged at my heart. I abused the Ninja Secret Clause so much so that the only information I had was second hand.

"Well, not all wars are fought on the front lines." I rebutted, "small businesses were competing to stay afloat and some of these scam artists actually didn't know any other line of work so either they apprenticed themselves, mooched off a beneficiary, or like Gyoza turned to what he knew best."

"You were trained to watch out for them," Sasuke responded.

"Well it is what Tsunade and I were arguing about back at Konoha, all these stragglers left over from the war don't have anywhere else to go." I stated, "Who knows maybe give them a chance."

"But it's a waste of resources," Sasuke exclaimed, "The Hate system that has plagued my village for generations when I take over I'm going to see to its purification."

Birds chirped to fill the awkward silence. I let out a breath of relief I didn't know I had. Sherlock Holmes now had Gyoza to take apart for now so I can say I kept up my end of the deal. Sasuke still had some growing to do but he was lucid, alive, and minus a few psychological problems slowly changing for the better. Everyone had their work cut out for them just solving this mystery. I had my work cut out for me making sure Sherlock Holmes didn't detect his way into an early grave or losing what little bond my friends had left.

"What if you don't get what you want? Much like right now?" I asked, "What are you going to do?"

Sasuke grimaced down at the seal.

"I'll work to mend what I broke." Sasuke repeated, "Foundations start small and a broken bond takes much longer to mend than to break."

"Pretty much," I stated, "Unless you also forgot the third thing. Bonds between loved ones crackle."

"Loved ones rarely do." Sasuke interjected.

If Sasuke wasn't hurting so much I'd hug him. Things didn't go according to plan. Footsteps crunched outside. I closed the door momentarily while the Uchiha fell into a light doze. I was met with several familiar faces in front of me.

"How is he?"

"Is he alright?"

"I'll give him a checkup later," Sakura stressed calmly getting many people to back off with the questions, particularly Sai, Naruto, Mrs. Hudson and Kakashi was peering over his book. The only one who didn't join in the crowding was Sherlock and Watson.

Watson hovered but Sherlock was there to gauge our reactions. I caught his eyes and extricated myself from the crowd. Sakura turning to me quickly gave a hissed reply:

"He hasn't run has he? From what I'd seen so far. Sherlock and Watson treated him like he's insane."

"I . . ." I complied to take Sakura further aside to talk to her, she's the smartest one of the bunch and right now the most level headed, "Can we get Watson and you to look at a small problem. On the good news I don't think Sasuke could get very far away."


End file.
